


Love Language

by Lifotni



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Listen I Don't Know What to Call My Writing Either, Relationship Dissection, brief mention of intimacy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 14:24:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20547641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lifotni/pseuds/Lifotni
Summary: Optimus did not think of himself as a romantic mech.





	Love Language

Optimus did not think of himself as a romantic mech, finding acts that would be regarded as “romantic” rather difficult to conjure up.

He was aware that he could rely on an example, learning from those who were declared to be far more attuned to what is romanticism and what was not. But if he were to do this, Optimus knew that he would only grow anxious about committing a cliche. 

He did not despair. There was no reason to, for the one who he would ever consider directing any romantic intentions towards happened to have an affinity for that which was not conventional in comparison to all that was attributed to relationships and the conceptualization of how to love someone. 

No, Elita happened to be quite unconventional in how she wished for him to love her. Love language, he had heard such a concept referred to, it being the manner in which one displays their adoration and, in turn, how they enjoy their partner to show adoration to them. 

The irony of love language, as Optimus had learned, was that most did not know how to speak their own before they come to be familiar with someone else’s. In his case, hence his knowledge, this was absolutely true and it was not until he had first given some resemblance of love that he came to also learn what his own wants even were. 

But it could be the opposite for many, it did not take him long to surmise. It had to have happened before that someone first learned what they wanted before they came to know how to give. This had to be true, for Optimus couldn’t think it not, but his experience had never acquainted him with understanding how someone went about it. 

Rather, he first learned how to give, and in the process, came to know how to want. 

This was a startling revelation, realizing that he needed to learn how to want. But again, the irony was in the fact that this seemed to be something that should be obvious. But it wasn’t for him. Rather, it took attempts that he rarely sought recollection of before he finally found out. 

Of course, this occurred with Elita. 

Learning love language, along with the practice of wanting, never seemed too tedious of a task as it had before they finally came together. Prior lovers helped them gather some understanding, yes, but the frustrations there always lied in insufficient communication of opposing languages that would never have translators. 

They soon came to realize that with each other, the need to become bilingual was not necessary; not where once it had been vital. Instead, they eased together when the unanimous conclusion was made between them that they had been speaking the same dialect all along. The problem only resided in that they had always been whispering. 

...

Optimus required reassurance -words of affirmation- from Elita. Of this she was well-versed, but her statements never became repetitive for him and always resonating within him to speak volumes of her confidences in his decisions. For her to approve of what he was about to do or say because they had conversed about it prior never ceased to make in him a stronger leader and he was not hesitant to ever say this was why he held even an iota of his current hold on charisma. 

Now, this was all well and good, but perhaps even more so than her assurance, Optimus also knew that he also required Elita’s unbridled disapproval. She had never and would never deign to hesitate in making him aware that she was questioning a decision he was asking her blessing for, and thus was the reason why it was to her that he would always go to recieve agreement. 

She was the same in this. Not identical, but the differences were only grammatical. 

Elita asked for his time, and in the way he wanted her own, he gave it to her. This was not always intimacy, as most made the error of mistaking. Rather, giving and wanting time was a mutually desired action that was rife with different forms. 

It was sitting beside one another in silence during meetings where not a shred of hinting at their relationship could be noted. It was walking together, pacing with each other as they spoke while traveling down a hall. It was laughing. It was sparring. It was resting together while they read at late hours, only sparsely talking to let one know about a particularly interesting line. 

Again, their differences were only in the grammar. 

Optimus did not know what it meant to truly love before he knew Elita. To hold her servo was a source of elation and to kiss her was euphoria. He compared the progression of their physical relationship to both of these, recalling when they had first slipped their digits together, lacing each between one another’s while residing in silence. A kiss had occurred not long after, being it a breem later or vorns, it didn’t matter. 

Knowing one another that very first time had been_ languid_, more time spent with the tips of their digits traversing their plating than for the act itself. 

It was on that night when they could not bring themselves to say a thing, knowing that each and every syllable that they could ever utter had already been strung together. Half-shuttered optics could converse a novella when making love, and since then and now, Optimus possessed libraries of her penmanship. 

He broke her digit once when they were sitting at the front of her starship and a Seeker acted as though they were about to dive the flight deck. They did not, averting from the ship completely, but when he threw his arm in front of her, she had been doing the very same for him and his thumb caught her pinky. It bent backward with a _ crack _ that he felt in his spine, and if he thought about it, he’d know he would hear her repeated reassurances that _ it’s alright. _

Optimus did not think of himself as a romantic mech, but he was learning. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading <3


End file.
